Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia - E.L. Doctorow

Sunday, October 17, 2010

The Ghazal

Obviously I'm not much of a blogger, as soon as my writing skills are taken up somewhere else I just forget their is bloggin to be done! But, here I am to let you know about 'The Ghazal.'

What Is It?

The ghazal is a lyric poem consisting of thematically autonomous couplets, unified by rhyme and metre. Although it is a 1300 year-old pre-Islamic Persian form, its non-linear format anticipates contemporary post-modern poetic sensibilities. Traditionally invoking melancholy, love, longing, and metaphysical questions, ghazals are often sung by Iranian, Indian, and Pakistani musicians. Ghazal (adapted into Urdu from Persian) is a reference to the cry of a gazelle. Agha Shahid Ali, who introduced it in its classical form to Americans, compared each ghazal couplet to ‘a stone from a necklace,’ which should continue to ‘shine in that vivid isolation.’

English writers tend to interpret the conventions of the ghazal in very personal ways. However, to say that most ghazals observe most or all of these features:

  • between five and fifteen couplets
  • each couplet is structurally, thematically, and emotionally autonomous
  • in the opening couplet, both the first and second lines close with the refrain (the refrain is a word or brief phrase)
  • subsequent couplets repeat the refrain in the second line (which rhymes with both lines of the first couplet)
  • the final couplet usually includes the poet’s signature, referring to the author in the first or third person, and frequently including the poet’s own name or a derivation of its meaning
Note on ghazals in translation: numerous scholars and poets have attempted to translate ghazals from their original language to English. The task is daunting, as keeping the literal meaning of each poem while respecting the rhyme, refrain, and length of lines is difficult, if not impossible.

An Example

‘Even the Rain’ by Agha Shahid Ali

What will suffice for a true-love knot? Even the rain?

But he has bought grief’s lottery, bought even the rain.

‘our glosses / wanting in this world’ ‘Can you remember?’

Anyone! ‘when we thought / the poets taught’ even the rain?

After we died—That was it!—God left us in the dark.

And as we forgot the dark, we forgot even the rain.

Drought was over. Where was I? Drinks were on the house.

For mixers, my love, you’d poured—what?—even the rain.

Of this pear-shaped orange’s perfumed twist, I will say:

Extract Vermouth from the bergamot, even the rain.

How did the Enemy love you—with earth? air? and fire?

He held just one thing back till he got even: the rain.

This is God’s site for a new house of executions?

You swear by the Bible, Despot, even the rain?

After the bones—those flowers—this was found in the urn:

The lost river, ashes from the ghat, even the rain.

What was I to prophesy if not the end of the world?

A salt pillar for the lonely lot, even the rain.

How the air raged, desperate, streaming the earth with


to help burn down my house, Fire sought even the rain.

He would raze the mountains, he would level the waves,

he would, to smooth his epic plot, even the rain.

New York belongs at daybreak to only me, just me—

to make this claim Memory’s brought even the rain.

They’ve found the knife that killed you, but whose prints are these?

No one has such small hands, Shahid, not even the rain.

All credit goes to my poetics course at the University of Queensland for this great information.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

The Blues Poem

I had my first poetry workshop the other day, and thought it would be a good idea to share the Blues Poem with you... Enjoy!

What Is It?

One of the most popular forms of American poetry, the blues poem stems from the African-American oral tradition and the musical tradition of the blues. The phrase ‘the blues’ is a synonym for having a fit of the blue devils, meaning down spirits, depression and sadness. A blues poem typically takes on themes such as struggle, despair, and sex. African-American writer Ralph Ellison said that although the blues are often about struggle and depression, they are also full of determination to overcome difficulty ‘through sheer toughness of spirit.’ This resilience in the face of hardship is one of the hallmarks of the blues poem. But the blues is about more than hard times; it can be humorous and raunchy as well:

Rebecca, Rebecca, get your big legs off of me,
Rebecca, Rebecca, get your big legs off of me,
It may be sending you baby, but it’s worrying the hell out of me.


There are few characteristics common to all blues, because the genre takes its shape from the idiosyncrasies of individual performances. The original lyrical form of the blues was probably a single line, repeated three times. It was only later that it evolved into the current, most common structure:

 a statement is made in the first line
 a variation is given in the second line
 and an ironic alternative is declared in the third line.

An example:
‘St. Louis Blues’ by WC Handy

I hate to see that evenin’ sun go down,
I hate to see that evenin’ sun go down,
’Cause my baby has left this town.

If I’m feelin’ tomorrow, just like I feel today,
If I’m feelin’ tomorrow, like I feel today,
I’ll pack my trunk and make my get-away.

St. Louis woman, with all her diamond rings,
Stole that man of mine, by her apron strings;
If it wasn’t for powder, and her store-bought hair,
That man I love wouldn’t’ve gone nowhere!

I’ve got the St. Louis blues, just as blue as I can be;
Lord, that man’s got a heart like a rock cast in the sea,
Or else he wouldn’t have gone so far from me!

Gee, I love that man like a school boy loves his pie,
Just like an old Kentucky colonel loves his rock & rye,
I guess I’ll love that man until the day I die.

And a song...

All credit goes to my poetics course at the University of Queensland for the great info.

Sunday, August 1, 2010

The Runaways

I've been out of blogging commission for a while. But, hopefully with my new uni semester started I can keep the blogging up because I'm going to have lots of writing to share. I'm doing 3 writing courses this semester--screenwriting, poetry, and writing for the professions. It looks like it's going to be a good semester, but than again I say that most semesters and when assessment roles around I'm cursing somebody, lol.

Not long ago I went to see "The Runaways". I didn't know what to expect from it, but really great movie, and I loved the music! It was based on the all girl late-seventies band The Runaways. Maybe it was a girl thing, but I definitely felt for the girls going through what they had to at such a young age and male dominated industry. And I have to mention again the MUSIC was AWESOME. I still can't get Cherry Bomb or Roxy Roller out of my head...maybe I was born in the wrong era.

Here's a little Cherry Bomb...

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Author of Note: Jacqueline Carey

I admire a person who can create another world intricately just from the recesses of their mind. Jacqueline Carey is one of those people I admire. The world she creates for her readers in the Kushiel's Legacy series is spectacular. Terre d'Ange (with the motto of "Love as thou wilt") is on my list of places to visit if someone ever finds a way for books to become reality.

Her first book in the Kushiel's Legacy series Kushiel's Dart is a must read for any fantasy novelist reader. Carey mixes sex, religion, adventure, conspiracies, and romance all into her Kushiel series. And I might add, Carey is a great writer that pulls you in, and makes you want more and more and more. I'm reading Kushiel's Dart again, and all I can say is I'm falling in love all over again! lol.

Kushiel's Dart follows Phèdre nó Delaunay, a women with a scarlet mote in her left eye... Sold into servitude, and than purchased again by a nobleman, who recognises something no one else can see... She is pricked by Kushiel's Dart, a fate where she is to experience pain and pleasure as one... Although her nobleman has other plans for her...

Carey definitely knows how to grab my attention with her writing, and I'm glad to have found her books. The Kushiel's Legacy series are her most well known works, though she has just recently released Santa Olivia, a tale set in near-future Texas.

Careys work is something you do not want to miss out on!

Sunday, July 4, 2010

Fire...A Review

When I don't blog in a considerable amount of time, about a week, you can safely assume I'm stuck in another land or era. So, besides working to put uni books on my table I've been immersed in a few good books.

I've been waiting to read Fire by Kirstin Cashore the prequel to Graceling for some time, but haven't had the time. I absolutely loved Graceling and the world Cashore created for us in her first novel, and I wasn't sure what to expect from Fire, but it certainly surpassed my expectations, which is a welcome surprise.

As the title suggests Cashore's latest novel is based on Fire, a beautiful monster creature living in the Dells across the mountains from the 7 kingdoms. Fire is the last of her kind and much sought after, dead or alive, for her abilities with mind control. Most importantly Fire has to prove to herself she is not her father and is actually a beautiful monster inside and out.

So, if your stuck for something to read this winter or summer, depending on what side of the hemisphere your on, you should definitely pick up Fire and than Graceling because they are both great books.

Before I go a big shout out to the first recipient of the Writer Wisdom Award, WritingNut, for the thought provoking posts she provides.

Monday, June 28, 2010

Congratulations ANGIE!

Yes that's right Angie from "Notes from the Writing Chair" you've won! If you could please email me at ----- telling me which book you would like, and what magical land to send it off to that would be great, thanks : )

Another contest will be held when I hit 100 followers!

Sunday, June 27, 2010

Last chance to enter the contest!

WARNING...The contest is officially over in one day, so if you want the chance to win one of the 3 books stated go here and leave a comment. You have better chances of winning this than the lotto, so why not join in.

Have a great weekend!

Friday, June 25, 2010

50 Followers Contest...

THANK-YOU FOLLOWERS, I have reached 50! The magic number. And as promised a contest. This is a contest about great books. Your favourite books that inspire you to want to be a better writer, or made you want to write.

The Rules:

1. You must be a follower of the blog to enter.
2. You can only be entered in the draw once.
3. Enter by making a comment on this blog post telling me what your favourite book is. You will not be judged on what your favourite book is, the contest winner will be picked at random.

The Prize - The choice of either one of my favourite books. Each of these books left me amazed and hopefully one of them can do the same for you.

- The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins

- Graceling by Kristin Cashore

- Kushiel's Dart by Jacqueline Carey

The contest will close on Monday 28th at 6pm, Brisbane, Australia time. I will leave a comment when the contest is finished.

The contest winner will be notified personally, and also put up on the blog.


Another Award!

Big hugs for Lydia on giving me my second award. Thanks so much! I got to pick it out, so I coordinated with the blog.

Thanks again Lydia.

Thursday, June 24, 2010


Sometimes I will come across a quote that really strikes me. One of those quotes where I just have to write it down because it seems so perfect I don't want to forget it. Even if I do get the quote down somewhere I may lose track of it among the clutter of my life, but here are some quotes that have stayed with me...

"Remember, if you ever need a helping hand, it's at the end of your arm, as you get older, remember you have another hand: The first is to help yourself, the second is to help others." - Audrey Hepburn

"No one can make you feel inferior without your consent." - Eleanor Roosevelt

What's your favourite quote/s?

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Writer Wisdom Award!

Since blogger awards seem to be making the rounds lately I thought I would join in the fun. I'm all about sharing the love around : ) So, every month, starting from July I will choose one awesome person for the Writer Wisdom Award. This person will share compassion, or knowledge to other fellow bloggers. I would love you guys to pitch in and offer up suggestions of fellow bloggers you think deserve this award.

This award is just my way of saying thank-you to all the great bloggers out there.

Also, I would just like to say a big thanks to everyone for following me. You guys are the best! And I did promise that when my followers hit 50 I will hold a competition, including a PRIZE to show my appreciation to you all. Of course, only my followers will be able to enter the competition. Spread the word around, the faster I hit 50 the sooner the contest starts.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Fundamentals of Writing Creatively

I am very lucky to have an awesome writer "Kim Wilkins" who teaches at my university. In my writing course she came in and gave a lecture on the Fundamentals of Writing Creatively. My next Author of Note will be the lady in question. So, since this lecture was very informative for me I thought I would share it with you all. And hopefully you will get something out of it. Enjoy!

1. Be Specific


Use good descriptive verbs, they may help cut down bulky sentences. Sometimes you need short, sharp, and sweet. It can add more empathise.

For example: Instead of - He put the folder on the table forcefully.
                        Make it - He slammed the folder on the table.

2. Be Clear


Make sure your words and sentences are relating properly.

Incorrect: The boy went missing in his school uniform the first day he wore it.
This makes it sound like the boy actually went missing inside his school uniform instead of while he was wearing it.

Be careful where you place your modifiers. Find ways to achieve sentence variety, and break sentences up. You don't want to overload the reader with to much information.


For example: The heat leeched him, settling like dust in his throat.
This sentence is not wrong, but too many metaphors can sound pompous. You shouldn't overlap a metaphor with another metaphor. Make the metaphor work, and once you have achieved the perfect metaphor walk away from it. No one likes a metaphor show off.


Say what you mean to say. Don't use unnecessary words.

For example: Instead of - He went out and touched the edge.
                        Use this - He touched the edge.

3. Be Careful


Use good descriptive words.

For example: Instead of - He was quite tall.
Quite is not a very good descriptive word. Words such as rather, pretty, a bit, a little, somewhat are also not great descriptive words. Instead what you could say is...The top of my head came up to his chin.


Be careful of them. Words such as very, and extremely.


You don't need to explain every little thing. Your reader is a smart cookie. Like with metaphors if it works walk away from it.

4. Be Relaxed

A test: Do I know this word?
If the answer is no you should probably not be using it.

Also, don't use words if you know it, but don't need it. No one likes a show off.

Check out How to Write a Novel by Newman and Mittlemark.

5. Be Creative

Read a-lot. Try some of the great masters.


Once you understand how grammar works than you can break the rules, and make your own rules. It's about the only time you will be able to break grammer rules, so have fun.

Saturday, June 19, 2010

I'm gone for a couple days and already an AWARD!

After my brief exam disappearance I'm back. One more exam to go and semester break...oh how I love thee! Wish me luck cause I'm gonna need it.

HUMONGOUS, MASSIVE, HUGE (can I go any bigger, lol) THANKS to Amanda Sablan of the That Unpublished Writer blog for awarding me my very first ever blogger award. Isn't it pretty!

The Rules:

1) Thank and link back to the person who gave you this award.

2) Share 7 things about yourself.

3) Pass the award along to 15 bloggers who you have recently discovered and who you think are fantastic for whatever reason! (In no particular order...)

4) Contact the bloggers you've picked and let them know about the award.
So, I guess I will start with sharing 7 things about myself. What to write hmmm...
1. Lets start with the obvious - I love to read and write...Contempory, scifi, fantasy, YA. The only genre I really don't get into is crime.
2. I love food. I'm big on baking especially, but recently I've had to go gluten free due to an intolerance...how ironic! lol.
3. On the 21st of November this year I am going on a mega holiday for 2 months around Europe and USA. I can't wait!
4. I'm 19, though I have been told that I act way older than I am. 19 going on 39.
5. I'm in my second year of university majoring in writing and psychology. We'll see how that all pans out. I'm hoping for the best :)
6. My love life is a mess, lol. Though it's better than nothing.
7. I love to play with fire ;) Their is a yummy vanilla candle burning next to me right now.
Now on to the fantastic bloggers I've recently stumbled upon who also deserve this fantastic award:
  (Not quite 15, but close enough)
Keep up the great work everyone!

Thursday, June 10, 2010

The Red Rose

I wrote "The Red Rose" for one of my literary courses this semester. Something I whipped up at the last minute, which is the case for most of my assignments. This one was a lot more fun to write though since it was creative writing and not academic. We had to write a short story based from a fairy tale and I did my favourite Beauty and the Beast. It also has elements of the gothic and uncanny in their, which you will easily spot out. So, here it is....

I slammed the front door in my Mother’s face. This was a new low for her; drunk at seven in the morning. “Beauty,” she screeched. I couldn’t stay there—with her—anymore.

I walked down the crumbling sidewalk, away from my home.....

I found myself not heading for school, but to the other side of town, where the houses spelled old wealth. My feet had a habit of bringing me towards there, though I always firmly stayed away due to my Mother’s warnings. For the first time in my life I would disobey her.

My feet brought me to a dead end. Before me stood a massive pair of wrought iron gates, beginning to peel with decay. Peering through the gate I saw such a sight! A magnificence of roses decorated the garden; reds, yellows, pinks. The sun beating down gave the roses a slight glow. I had to see one up close. Everything else was lost to me, including the old gothic structure behind the beds of roses. Gargoyles stood at each end of the four metre gates. They were meant to scare me, but how could I be scared when such beauty lived inside.

Pushing on the gates I managed to nudge some movement out of them and create a space just big enough for my small frame to fit through. Upon entering the garden I was immediately drawn to the centre where a circular bed of red roses stood. In haste I made my way over to the roses.

Once I arrived at the bed of roses my hand went—of its own accord—to touch one. The petals felt so soft and smooth in my fingertips. I couldn’t resist leaving without this masterpiece. I picked the rose.

“Grrr how dare you disturb my garden. I give you such pleasure and you repay me by destroying it.” I startled at the grizzly voice. After dropping the rose I spun around and saw a beast step out of the shadows of the arching gothic structure.

“I...I...I’m sorry,” I managed to stammer out.

His body was covered in a thick brown fur. His mouth was turned into a growl, bearing all sharp teeth. I got a shock of knowing as his eyes pierced mine, but it was immediately forgotten on his next growl of annoyance. “You will repay me for your destruction. For that one rose you will grow me ten more in its place.”

“But, I don’t know how to grow roses as beautiful as these.”

“I’ll teach you,” the beast said his mood softening.

I agreed to the beast’s request. It was only fair since I had ruined something that I had no right in ruining. He told me that I should come promptly to his mansion every morning to begin my repayment to him, otherwise there would be consequences. I was in no position to fight the beast before me, but I did ask about school. Which he responded to thus, “As most of the morning is already gone it seems you will not miss the tedium that is school.” My response was a glad one for I did not like the low rate school I attended near my home. It was full of delinquents. I then left the beast with the firm notion that I must see him the next morning.

The next day I found my feet once again brought me easily and swiftly to the beast’s mansion. Though his looks were not something of fairy tales, I knew I would get used to them as I saw him more. I did as the first week went by. The beast had a kind nature, helping, patient. I was not an easy student, but he never gave up on me and his roses.

Everyday he offered me lunch, which I gratefully took in the garden with him. After lunch, like clockwork, everyday, he asked for my hand in marriage. The first time I was shocked, however like his beastly looks I got used to his question, which I firmly rejected.

One day he allowed me inside his mansion. Near the front door stood a table with photos of what looked like to be a young family. I asked the beast who the pictures where of and he replied, “My heart”. I took a closer look and on expectation found the little girl in the pictures looked exactly like me. I was baffled by the uncanny resemblance. I never remembered my father...

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

The Day After...

Firstly, I would just like to thank everyone for wishing me a happy birthday. Seeing the followers box starting to fill up is great. Thanks again everyone. If I ever hit 50 followers I will hold a contest to show you all my appreciation.

Secondly, my birthday! I had a great afternoon/night with my girlfriends. Nothing flash since it was my 19th, just a nice night out. Dinner flowed by a movie. But, not just any movie, "The Rocky Horror Picture Show". One of my all time favourite movies. I just love it! We saw it at the old Regent theatre, which is unfortunately going to be demolished for a stupid business building. Like we need more of them in the city. The theatre reminds me a lot of the Phantom of the Opera's theatre. If I had the money I would buy it myself and never see it torn down, but I don't :(

And this is just inside one of the 4 theatres. The foyer is just one big piece of art work. It should really be an historic landmark.

Now for something more uplifting. Two of my favourite songs from the "Rocky Horror Picture Show".

I'm looking forward to buying lots of books with my birthday money. Uni holidays are this July! So, lots of reading and writing will ensue. Exams are next week. Ekk! Study time.

Monday, June 7, 2010

BIRTHDAY + Unending Love

Its my birthday today! My day is just beginning and the celebrations will start this afternoon. I'm excited for the day ahead. It's nice to be able to just go out with friends and have a good time. I've been so busy lately that that stuff is a rare occurrence.

I thought today I would leave you with a poem. Not something I've written, but one of my favourite poems. It's not a poem associated with new life, more with death, which may not be so appropriate for a birthday post, but its my birthday and I make the rules, lol.

Here it is "Unending Love" by Rabindranath Tagore

I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times…
In life after life, in age after age, forever.

My spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace of songs,
That you take as a gift, wear round your neck in your many forms,

In life after life, in age after age, forever.

Whenever I hear old chronicles of love, it's age-old pain,

It's ancient tale of being apart or together.

As I stare on and on into the past, in the end you emerge,

Clad in the light of a pole-star piercing the darkness of time:

You become an image of what is remembered forever.

You and I have floated here on the stream that brings from the fount.

At the heart of time, love of one for another.

We have played along side millions of lovers, shared in the same

Shy sweetness of meeting, the same distressful tears of farewell-

Old love but in shapes that renew and renew forever.

Today it is heaped at your feet, it has found its end in you

The love of all man’s days both past and forever:

Universal joy, universal sorrow, universal life.

The memories of all loves merging with this one love of ours –

And the songs of every poet past and forever.

Have a great day!

Saturday, June 5, 2010


My desk is a shambles. Pieces of paper everywhere. Uni books piled one on top of the other. A bin overflowing with tissues from my bought with the cold. Dockets. Envelopes. Even Shoes! And I haven't even told you about the rest of my room. Who has time to clean? lol. But, I am making it my new mission to improve my work space. De-cluttered desk = de-cluttered mind. So, hopefully with a less cluttered mind I will be able to write more during my uni break. Three weeks and uni is done for first semester! I love uni, but it can also be a very stressful and time consuming place.

Along with my new workspace de-clutter I'll also tweak the blog around.

My life will soon be a clutter free zone. Here's hoping anyway.

Below: one of my top dream work spaces. That view! *Sigh*

Friday, June 4, 2010


I wrote this piece a while ago. I don't really think it falls under any sort of category of poem or story. It was meant to be a story, but it turned out the way it did--short and sweet. It shows how I have felt over the last couple of years. Their has been so many changes in my life and I'm always having to make decisions, decisions that could have massive consequence. Though I'm happy with all the decisions I have made so far, but with a lot of things I'm still standing on that precipice.

I stand at the precipice. Which way do I go?

My breathing is heavy and regard. Heart in my throat.

I have been running. I don’t know what from or what too, but I have been running.

I’m scared of going forward, but I can’t go back.

Forward promises crystal blue skies and calm seas. However, when I look down all I see are the crashing waves rolling up the rocky cliff, getting closer and closer, pressing me to make a decision.

I want to jump, but I need someone to catch me.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Author of Note: Amy Lane

At the start of each new month I'm going to post about writers that have influenced me into wanting to write creatively.

The first time I stepped into Amy Lane’s world of “Green’s Hill” I was completely enraptured. She can spin an amazing story, and create characters that are worth every penny of your love.

One of the real reasons she has inspired me as a writer is that she is doing it all herself, publishing her work indie, so she can get her amazing stories out there. That takes someone with a lot of courage and heart, I believe.

Amy’s “The Little Goddess Series” is one of those diamond in the rough kinda series for me. Sometimes it can be hard to find a series of books you completely fall for, but when you do it is great.

The Little Goddess Series” is fantasy/erotic/romance fiction, so not for the little ones, but Amy has also published Bitter Moon 1, and 2, which are young adult focused.

Vulnerable the first instalment of the series follows university student Corinne Carol-Anne Kirkpatrick (a.k.a. Cory) and her discovery of a world of vampires, elves, and werewolves that are a very real threat to her safety. Then comes the rest of the series Wounded, Bound, and Rampant, with more to come.

Her writing may not appeal to everyone, but try her out and you may be surprised. You can hear more about her antics at her blog “Yarning to Write”.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010


My second attempt at writing a novel. "Dauphine" is a young adult fantasy. I had a whole kingdom set out in my head. Filled with different kings, families, and cultures. Though I made it through chapter 1 and that was it. So, here is chapter one. Please excuse any writing errors.

Just breathe in and breathe out. One more tug and then this will be over. You would think by now that I would be used to this, but no. I still feel as though I will not be able to breathe if Grace pulls those strings on my corset any further. The pain women go to look good for men in this society. Shouldn’t a princess be able to choose what she wants to wear? I can remember having this conversation with father so many times. “No Willa, when you become a peasant and are no longer a princess you will be able to wear whatever you want”. All that I ask is that I get some say, but no, I wear what I am told to wear, that is until my majority.

“Okay princess, I am all done,” my maid servant Grace tells me.

“Thank-you Grace.” I adore Grace she has been my maid for as long as I can remember. She was and is the closest thing I have had to a mother in this world. With her long golden hair streaked with silver sitting in a beret at the nape of her neck, her light blue eyes and silky white skin. She is a classic Lyran. Where I am not.

I pull at my royal blue gown and sigh. I just wish things could be easier. You would think that being a princess of one of the most prominent kingdoms in all the lands I would have some sway. But I am young and a woman. Two things that I do not have going for me.

With my back to Grace I can see her looking at me through the mirror. She is wearing her concerned face. It is the same face she uses whenever she worries about me. Eyes slightly squinted, mouth in a straight line. She never will say anything but she can see that I am restless.

Instead of continuing with our wallowing Grace makes herself busy pulling my long mahogany hair up into a golden net. I do not have the typical looks of a Lyran. I take after my mother. Or so I am told. My mother died during my birth. My mother was from a distant kingdom to the east of Lyra. Their colouring is darker compared to Lryan colouring. My hair is a dark mahogany, my eyes a penetrating black, my skin however is as white as milk and I am one of the shortest people at court.

I feel as though sometimes I am living in a land of giants and I am a little elf, just waiting for one of the giants to spot me and say I don’t belong. Well of course I don’t belong, in a kingdom ruled by men and only men. When my mother died my father was persuaded relentlessly to take another wife, to conceive a male heir. But my father is a proud man and would never be persuaded by the other men at court, even if it meant he would have a woman as heir to the throne. I am the first women to be heir to the Lyran throne. There are a lot of people at court who would rather die then see a woman take the throne and many people at court would love to see my cousin Tristan on the throne. My father however is adamant that I take the throne when he dies or steps down. You see my father and his brother have never had a good relationship. Ever since they where young there has been a rivalry between them. My Uncle Prince Erican believes he would have been a better ruler over my father, but he is the younger son, so he was not to be king and that privilege went to my father King Eadwyn.

Ever since I was a little girl I have been groomed to take my position as Queen of Lyra and I will be Queen. If there is one thing I am sure of in this world is that I love my kingdom and would never see it fall into the hands of an amateur. Don’t get me wrong, I love my cousin but he is not the best of role models, with his idea of politics as kissing babies and the occasional public appearance. Suffice to say I am forever telling him it is much harder work then that.

Tristan’s mother Princess Orinda and his sister Princess Arianna also would rather see the Prince on the throne then me. No love lost in the women of my family.

I just wish there was some way to be Queen without having to wear a corset. I really detest those things. I am sure a man invented the corset, there has to be no other explanation for it.

Coming out of my haze Grace tells me that my father has sent for me and that I am to go to him before breakfast.

After putting my gold encrusted slippers on I make my way to my fathers chambers. Grace walks behind me on my right, as is her place and guards are positioned on all four corners of me as me and Grace make our way to the King’s chambers.

I am received by Father’s chamber maid at his door and escorted into his study where Father is awaiting me. I take my place in the guest chair and wait for father to speak, as it is considered rude to address a person higher up then you before they address you first.

I love my father. But he always plays by the rules. I have not decided weather it is his virtue or fault. However, I can not blame my father for these rules, as it is how it has always been and as I am a women I am to be looked down upon even further then men. Whether I am royal blood or not. But if I was not my fathers daughter I would never be dauphine, second in line for the Lyran throne. He may be a stickler for some rules but I am afraid his hate for his brother is stronger and his love for me greater to want me to be the future Queen of Lyra.

“Willa, my daughter. I have some very exciting news to be presenting you with this morning.” Father seems to be very cheerful this morning. The last time I saw him this happy was when he told my Uncle Prince Erican it would be over his dead body before he ever saw Tristan ascend the throne. Which my Uncle replied, “It would be my pleasure.”

I never know how to respond to him when he is in such a mood though so I give him a cheerful smile in return.

Satisfied my father has my attention he continues.

“Two weeks ago, you may not be aware that I sent a delegate to Marcelon. He returned only a few days ago. Do you remember Willa?”

“Yes father, of course.” Come to think of it he has seemed quiet cheerful for a few weeks. It can’t just be because he sent a delegate to Marcelon. What would he want with Marcelon anyway? It is on the other side of the Aquinas Mountains.

“Well, it seems I am to travel to Marcelon on the morrow.”

“Father wh-.”

“Shush child I am not finished yet.” What is so exciting about traveling to Marcelon? It is at least a three day ride through the mountains. Not to mention the extra days it takes to travel from the mountains to Marcelon’s capital city. At his age, I don’t think my father should be taking such long trips.

“Willa, for blessed sacks child, are you even listening to me.”

“I am sorry father. Please excuse my rudeness.”

Father stares at me for a few minutes and seems to contemplate something. This of course makes me quiet anxious to hear his news now.

“As I was saying,” Father continues. “I have arranged to have a meeting with Julien Beccari, King of Marcelon. To discus the prospect of both our fair lands joining. Through a royal marriage,” Father adds in hast.

A joining of both Marcelon and Lyra would put both our lands in a very good position. I imagine. As both Marcelon and Lyra are two of the most revered kingdoms in all the lands. This is quiet exciting news. I wonder who the lucky couple is.

“And Father, who is to be married.”

“Yes,” Father says. “Married. That dear, is were you come in to my plan.”

I have no more thoughts or words, I am blank.

“Willa, if all goes well with the King when I see him, you are to marry him. Of course, no one else would do for a king.”


“But Willa this is not just a marriage of union for the joining of two strong kingdoms.”

At this point my senses are starting to return and I eventually come out with a solid “Its not.”

“Of course not Willa. This union between you and the King would guarantee your succession as Queen, here in Lyra when the time comes for a new ruler. You see, if you and the king marry he will rule over Marcelon and when I name Julien my heir he will be king of both Marcelon and Lyra. But as his wife and Queen he will leave you in command of Lyra while he rules over Marcelon. It is the perfect plan Willa. You will be Queen of Lyra and no brother’s son of mine will be king.”

At this point I don’t know what to think. My father wants me to marry the king of Marcelon and make him his heir and denounce me as heir. But I am still to be Queen as Julien can not rule over two kingdoms at once and I will have to stay in Lyra to rule.

But this is not how it is meant to be. Me and Father were going to fight, and I was going to be Queen whether the court approved or not. If that were to happen I would be the rightful ruler of Lyra. If I where to marry Julien and this plan of my fathers would come to pass I would not be the rightful ruler of Lyra. I would be a fake, a stand in.

“When I am to meet the King those are to be my terms and you will rule Lyra and your children will rule Lyra. It is what I have always wanted for you. But this way it is easier Willa. This way you will be under the protection of two Kingdoms.”

I can’t imagine what my face looks like right now. There are a thousand different emotions whirling through my head, anger for being made to marry someone I don’t know, sadness that our country would not accept a Queen as ruler, and despair as I have no way to tell my father no. I can see it in his hard grey eyes and tight knit brow that no one is to sway him in this matter, especially not his daughter, whom he is apparently doing this all for.

Monday, May 31, 2010

My First Piece of Writing

I can’t remember the exact day or month I started writing, but it was 2008, my last year of high school. Only then did I discover a world of books I never knew existed. I was reading madly for the first time in my life and from that came the urge to write, to create something no one else had ever created before. My writing skills were not the best. In fact I used to hate writing. But, it turned out I actually love writing, when it’s on my terms. I decided to write a novel, but turns out those are harder to write than you may think. I kept losing concentration on what I was writing, always thinking of new projects. However, I have completed a few short pieces of writing which I will share on here, as well as some of my unfinished work.

It has been two years now since I started writing. I’m at uni and hope to complete one of my majors in writing. Let’s hope I’ve improved since my first piece of writing.

Here’s a look at the preface to “Ghost”...

Shivering, Rose couldn’t describe what she was feeling. It was like she was cold, but she wasn’t. She could just feel a tingling sensation all over her body. Rose didn’t know what to think. Was she going mad? She had to be. She couldn’t see anything. It was nothing. Just a trick of her eyes. It was late, maybe past midnight. She was just really tired. That had to be it! She was just tired and those shadows coming from the light of the moon were not helping her nerves. Rose turned around quickly and hastily walked to the door to leave the confines of the attic. Just as she went to open the door, that she thought she had left opened, Rose heard someone whisper something.

“You’re leaving?” The mysterious voice said.

...I got as far as two chapters of my first story. But, I don’t think they’re that good to share with you. They require a lot of editing.

I write for many reasons now to express my emotions, experience new things, tap into different psyches. It’s the fun of writing and creative writing.